


Cause The World Is Gonna End Tonight

by Andian



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Jacob And Staci Survive, M/M, Power Dynamics, Rough Oral Sex, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29570778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andian/pseuds/Andian
Summary: The bombs had dropped and somehow Staci had surived. Only to end up in a bunker with Jacob Seed.Now he just needed to continue surviving Jacob.
Relationships: Staci Pratt/Jacob Seed
Comments: 5
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of a longer continuation of one of my Jacob/Staci ficlets. I wanted to explore something about their dynamics changing in their own bunker ending. The fic is finished, will post the next chapter next week.

The bunker doors closed and the last thing Staci saw of the world was it being devoured by fire.

He had been right, he thought in a panic, heart beating so fast in his chest it was painful. Joseph fucking Seed had been right. The Collapse had come and Staci could have been out there right now, could burn in the flames and…

“Pratt,” Jacob barked and something was pressed into his hands. It took Staci a moment to realize that it was a clipboard. “Make notes of who the fuck has made it and who is missing.”

“Yes, Jacob,” Staci answered automatically. He felt numb and weirdly detached, like this was all just a bad dream he’d wake up from any moment but this was an order from Jacob and if Staci had become good at anything over the last few months, it was following Jacob’s orders. He gripped the clipboard so tight it pressed into his palms and the pain was something to focus on, something to anchor himself to this world so he wouldn’t drift away into the spreading cold inside his chest.

Jacob’s eyes wandered down to his hands and if he noticed Staci holding on to the clipboard for dear life, he didn’t comment on it. Better things to do, Staci thought as Jacob turned around to his men.

The commotion among them, loud murmurs and what even sounded like a few chocking sobs, slowly faded away.

“The end has come,” Jacob began, slowly letting his eyes wander over each of his soldiers in front of him. “Joseph was right. But we were ready. We were saved. And we will stay save until the time has come to open those doors again and protect the Garden in the name of the Father.”

He sounded like he actually believed it, Staci thought. Maybe he did. Or maybe he was just telling his soldiers what they needed to hear so they’d keep fighting. For all that Jacob talked about survival of the strong, he had proven in the past that he understood that a starving man was best motivated with the promise of meat and not further beatings, even if the food was a lie. The end of the world wasn’t likely to change this.

“Pratt, get their names,” Jacob then said, turning towards him and Staci snapped to attention.

It didn’t really matter in the end, Staci thought as he started scribbling down names. The world has ended and now he was here in the bunker with Jacob. How could anything matter anymore?

It took him hours until he had managed to check every name on his clipboard with Jacob’s surprisingly meticulous files of his soldiers. He felt exhausted, eyes itching but whenever he closed them even for a second too long, he could see the bombs dropping.

So he kept them open, compared name after name even when most of Jacob’s soldiers had retired to their cots, the bunker falling quiet. Staci didn’t like the silence. It hadn’t been this quiet at the Veterans Center, not even in the middle of the night. The chirping of cicadas, the distant hooting of an owl and the all too close growls of Jacob’s Judges.

It hadn’t been comfort, but it had been a sign of life. In the bunker, there was nothing but the humming of the lights above him and the buzzing of the air filters.

At least the sound of falling bombs had stopped. Staci’s hand tightened around the pen at the memory. Abruptly he stood up, chair screeching loudly in the silence. He was pretty sure Jacob didn’t need him to bring him the list in the middle of the goddamn night.

He was also pretty sure that he didn’t fucking care. Jacob yelling, threatening him, would be a welcomed distraction right now. Fear of the known, he thought as he started walking through the room they were using to sleep, was so much better than the fear of the unknown.

It took him a few minutes to orientate himself. He had come along with Jacob to several inspections but those had been spent desperately trying to not get into Jacob’s way, too browbeaten to notice much of the bunker. Faintly he remembered Jacob getting something from a small room that contained little else beside a desk, a bed and a radio. He hesitated when he finally found it. Stupid, he thought, to actually seek Jacob out like this.

But in the silence of the bunker, the bombs kept falling in his head and the cold in his chest kept spreading and spreading. Before he even realized it himself, he had knocked on the door. There was no answer for a long moment and he almost turned away.

Then the door was ripped open and Jacob stared at him.

“What,” he growled. He looked … unwell, Staci thought. His eyes were still cold and piercing but they were darting away from Staci and back towards the radio on the table, making a static noise.

“I … I brought the list,” Staci stuttered, handing it over to Jacob who stared at it for a long moment as if he had forgotten about it. “Several dozen people missing, some injuries with one severe one,” he continued.

Facts, he thought. Jacob liked facts.

Another long silence before Jacob finally took the clipboard. “We will have to check supplies in the morning,” he mumbled. “Set up the med bay, see if the rain water collectors got damaged in the blasts.”

Staci stayed silent, unsure if he was supposed to answer.

“The supplies should last us, especially if we are not complete. It’s a pity it happened today, we were expecting a food delivery from the valley tomorrow. John had….”

He trailed off and his eyes flickered back to the radio, still only broadcasting static. Ah, Staci thought. Right.

He hadn’t allowed himself to think of his friends. Hudson and Sheriff Whitehorse, Rook. Hell, even the goddamn Marshall who had gotten them into this mess in the first place. For all he knew, Hudson had still been with fucking John Seed and Rook had still been attempting to free her. John’s radio rants to Jacob about the hell Rook was raising in his region had given Staci almost something like hope.

Maybe Rook would free Joey. Find Whitehorse and then would come for him. Maybe there was a chance.

The bombs had taken that hope. But then, he wasn’t the only person with people he cared for out there. He wondered suddenly if Jacob had spent the last few hours, desperately trying to contact his siblings.

Had they been in their bunkers, he wondered. And if not, had they been fast enough to get to them. Or had they just stood there, too transfixed by the realization that Joseph’s prophecy had come true after all. His eyes wandered to the radio and he wondered if Jacob would be met with only silence out there.

Jacob must have noticed his look or maybe he had once again managed to see right into Staci’s head because suddenly there were hands around his throat, squeezing hard.

“Don’t think for a moment, I’d allow weakness,” Jacob hissed. He was close, too damn close and Staci twisted in his grip before training overtook instinct and he went limp. “Not even now. Especially not now. Not from you.”

He didn’t look at the radio again but Staci could still hear the unspoken part. Not from Jacob. No weakness, not even at the end of the world and with his family potentially dead.

“Y-yes, sir,” he gasped out, averting his eyes, staring at the floor. “No weakness.”

For a moment the grip around his throat tightened to a painful extent and Staci wondered faintly if Jacob would actually kill him. Cull the weak, he thought. Have one less mouth to feed in this world of flames and ash. Black spots started dancing in his vision and at least in the darkness, there would be no fire.

But then the pressure eased and Staci let out a wheezing gasp as Jacob stepped away from him.

“Strength,” he said, staring at Staci. “You will be strong or you will not survive this.” And with that he turned away from Staci and closed the door, leaving Staci alone to desperately gulp for air.

No weakness, Staci thought dimly. Not even now. With shaking legs he made his way back to the dormitory. He had no doubts what he would face tomorrow.

He was proven right.  
  
"Again," Jacob growled. Staci stared up at him from the ground, nose bleeding and joints aching, and considered just dying like this. It would mean rest at least, he thought. Unless he was already dead and this was hell.

Sometimes he believed it was.

An impatient movement above him and suddenly there was Jacob's shoe, putting pressure on his chest. He let out a startled gasp, cursed himself inwardly as he was doing so. Waste of breath, idiot, he berated himself. Should have seen this coming.

"Again," Jacob hissed above him and there it was again, that irritated impatience Staci had been bearing the brunt of during the last few weeks. He had no doubt that so far all Jacob had gotten from the radio was more dead air.

There was grim satisfaction in the knowledge that Jacob to some extent must also be suffering.

More pressure on his chest and Staci's instincts kicked in, struggling against the threat of a broken sternum.

"Not quite ready to die just yet, are we," Jacob mocked. Staci would have laughed if he could have afforded the air. Would you let me, he wanted to ask. Would you allow me that mercy?

But he said nothing and the pressure on his chest eased as hands reached for him, roughly pulling him to his feet.

"Again," Jacob said and Staci raised his hands, reading himself for the next futile attempt of blocking Jacob's punches.

He was so exhausted that night, he didn't dream of the bombs for the first time in weeks. It didn't mean he woke up rested. But slowly he felt like he was getting used to life in the bunker.

A routine had started setting in. Days were spent taking care of things in the bunker. Broken machines that needed to be repaired, taking stock of supplies and a surprising amount of work to oversee for Jacob, all of which usually kept Staci busy till the evenings. Those were usually reserved for training. Jacob still trained his soldiers, had set up meticulous schedules to keep them in shape.

"Prepare to protect the Garden once we leave the bunker," Jacob said.

Distraction, Staci thought. From the burnt world outside and the gray bunker walls inside. Nothing more. Sometimes he couldn't help but feel that his own more private training lessons were the same for Jacob.

After training, Staci would then report to Jacob. He had come to both fear and long for those hours. He was exhausted most days, body aching painfully on others but on most days, it also meant sitting down for the first time.

Jacob's office was too small for anything else beside the desk with one chair and a bed that Staci seriously doubted Jacob ever actually slept in.

The first few weeks Staci had spent standing as he had rattled off his reports to Jacob. Legs shaking with exhaustion and at least he'd be so beat once he stumbled back to his bed in the dormitory, he'd fall asleep immediately.

Almost falling over didn't however make for a productive work environment. More than once Staci would have to restart reports as he stumbled over names and numbers.

"Sit," Jacob had suddenly told him one evening, almost one month after the bombs had dropped. There was a moment of silence as Staci stared at him, not sure if he had understood him correctly.

"Sit," Jacob repeated and there it was again, the flare of irritation. Quickly Staci sat down on the only available free place in the room. Jacob's bed.

"Keep going." Feeling like his mouth was running on its own Staci picked up with his report about the repairs of one of their water collection tanks.

His mind kept straying as they went over schedules and lists, racing as he tried to figure out what exactly this meant.

A trap? Jacob searching for weakness as always, to mercilessly stomp out what he found. But they had just finished a grueling training session and the bruises on Staci's body were a stark reminder of it. He wouldn't need to tempt him to weakness, Staci thought bitterly, not when he could see it so openly in him every day.

He finished his report and fell silent, shoulders and body tense as he waited for new orders.

Jacob wasn't looking at him though, frowning instead at the papers on his desk. Then he suddenly picked them up and carelessly dropped them in front of Staci.

"Come up with a food plan for next month," he said. "You know what rations we can afford, don't you."

Startled Staci looked up from the papers at Jacob. Like this, in the gloomy neon light inside Jacob's bedroom, he first realized that Jacob looked tired. Dark shadows under his eyes, though they did little to diminish the cold steel of his dark blue eyes, and forehead wrinkled in a frown that seemed to have become a constant since the bombs had dropped.

For the first time Staci thought that maybe he wasn't the only person working themselves to exhaustion.

"Can you do that?" Jacob interrupted his musings.

"Y-yes, I think so," Staci stuttered before picking up the paper. It wasn't hard, mostly meant checking their supply list and coming up with a few variations of basically the same meal.

But it meant power over their food supply. He thought of the razor blade, so close to Jacob's throat, so temptingly close to an artery. He hadn't done it back then, he couldn't have done it, but there had still been some part of him that had wanted to.

It was hard to remember this part inside the bunker. Maybe, Staci thought, it had burnt with everything else when the bombs had dropped.

Or maybe he was just too tired to entertain any overly involved thoughts of starving Jacob and the rest of the bunker.

Jacob had turned back to the other papers on his desk, the sound of his pen scratching on paper almost enough to tune out the constant hum of the air filters.

Staci tried not to think too closely about how easy it was to pick up his own pen and just start on the meal plan as he sat on Jacob's bed.

The next day, he hesitated slightly before sitting down on it again. Jacob said nothing, just silently listened to his report and if he didn't say anything, neither would Staci.

He didn't hesitate to sit down on Jacob's bed the next day. Or the day afterwards. He hesitated a few weeks later, as he picked up his tray of beans and potatoes. He hadn't seen Jacob during meal times in the last few days.

Technically the man could have asked for somebody to bring food to his room. But there had been another issue with the water filtration system, and Staci was about ready to consider the whole thing cursed, so Jacob had spent the last few days personally overseeing the repairs on top of his other duties.

When Jacob slept was a mystery to Staci. If he slept at all. Sinking down on a bench, he stared at the food in front of him.

He had done well enough with the meal plan, he thought. He hadn't heard nearly as much complains about the food from the men and women as the months before. And wouldn't it be good to remind Jacob that Staci could be useful, was useful.

Decision made, Staci stood up, causing a disgruntled murmur from one of Jacob's soldier who had sat down next to him. Too hungry probably to remember to keep his distance to Staci, the way people usually did in the bunker.

Nobody else paid attention to him when he made his way out of the room that served as their mess hall. When Staci wasn't carrying his clipboard and relaying Jacob's orders to them, they didn't really bother him. He was glad for it, there was too much else to deal with than to also care for the sneers and barely concealed barbs of the soldiers.

He stopped in front of Jacob's office, awkwardly adjusting the tray. He was early, Jacob normally excepted him after dinner, either making his way to one room emptied for training purposes or immediately asking for Staci's daily report.

And then there was also the food. Bribery, Staci thought. Feeding the wolf so it wouldn't eat him instead. In the bunker there was nowhere to run for Staci. Except for one place.

That before the bunker he would have chosen death over Jacob didn't warrant any more thoughts.

Before he could get lost inside his own head even more, he knocked. A moment of silence, then Jacob's gruff voice answering.

He didn't look up when Staci entered, bowed over his desk and staring at a wild array of papers. Staci silently placed the tray with food on the desk. Not close enough to disturb Jacob but still an obvious offer.

Jacob's eyes flickered towards it and then he turned towards Staci, mustering him with an unreadable expression. For a moment Staci wondered if Jacob was considering the probability of Staci trying to poison him.

He almost laughed out loud. Don't worry, he thought, if I tried to kill you, I'd do it with a knife.

The attempt would probably make Jacob proud, he then thought.

So instead of saying anything he just calmly met Jacob's stare. Whatever Jacob had been searching for in his eyes, he must have not have found it. Or maybe he had, either way he turned towards the tray and started shoveling beans into his mouth, all while still looking at the papers in front of him.

"Look at this," he said, shoving some of them towards Staci. It was the technical details of their broken water filtration system.

"We have no replacement parts. The delivery with it was supposed to the week after," Jacob continued. "We will have to drastically ration our water if we can't get it to work again."

Staci didn't answer, knowing that Jacob was using him more as a sounding board than actually asking for advice Before the bombs, Jacob wouldn't done this. But most of Jacob's carefully chosen lieutenants had not been close enough to make it to the bunker.

And then there was the radio which been relegated from its prominent spot on Jacob's desk to underneath the bed. Another thing Staci noticed but would never mention.

Something on the papers caught his attention then.

"That's the broken part?" Jacob nodded.

"It's the same as in the air filtration system." Staci would know. He had spent too many hours staring at schematics of it, trying to figure out how exactly it worked in case it would break down. "Could we use that?"

A considering look on Jacob's face as he leant closer to the part Staci was pointing at.

"It would render the air filtration system useless though," he then said. He was close, too close, and part of Staci tensed, remembering that having Jacob this close usually meant pain.

"Some of the bunker rooms are almost empty, though," he said quickly, trying to distract himself. "We can isolate them.”

It was one thing neither Staci nor Jacob had really acknowledged openly so far. The bunker was half empty, missing both supplies that were supposed to be delivered later and parts of Jacob's army who likely had died in the flames.

Joseph Seed, for all that his sermons about the bombs had turned out to be true, had gotten the dates a bit wrong, Staci thought sourly.

Though on the other hand, would Staci be here if it had gone differently? Breathing still, unlike so many others. There wasn’t much else to hang on to but there was that.

"It could work," Jacob interrupted his thoughts. His eyes wandered up from the paper to Staci and once more Staci felt like an insect being mustered underneath a magnifying glass.

Only for some reason this time he felt like he wasn’t being watched with distaste.

"Good idea, Pratt," Jacob said. All those hungry parts Jacob had dug out of Staci stood to attention.

"Very good," Jacob said and a hot wave of something washed over Staci. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn't fear or anger.

"You will oversee the repairs. Include it in your reports," Jacob continued.

"Yes, Jacob," Staci said.

"Well," Jacob then said, nodding impatiently towards his bed and it took Staci a moment to realize he was supposed to sit down.

Jacob finished his meal while Staci gave his report.

The next day Staci made his way to the broken air system. He had a speech prepared in his head, was prepared for the soldiers to wait until they got confirmation from Jacob that they were to actually follow his orders.

To his surprise though the men and women just nodded.

"Where should we start?" one of them asked and Staci somehow managed to give out orders without stumbling over his words.

Orders that the soldiers followed without hesitation. With all their loyalty to Jacob and Eden's Gate, even now, even as their precious Garden was nothing but ash and smoke, Staci had expected some pushback.

There was none. No attempts to slack off, to sneak off early for lunch time, as if Staci wasn't well aware when food was or wasn't served after over three months in the bunker.

It didn't make the next weeks much easier. The work turned out to be much more difficult than Staci had expected.

They spend almost the entire first week alone moving supply crates out of the rooms they'd isolate. Heavy crates with weapons and ammo, which Staci didn't bother looking too closely at. An endless amount of packaged boxes of canned beans, enough probably to last them through several more apocalypses. Water tanks that needed to be lifted very careful, least they broke.

Staci's entire body hurt and at the end of every day, his limbs were shaking with exhaustion. Jacob thankfully hadn't called him for private training lessons during this time though Staci suspected it was less a conscious act of mercy and more a matter of the million other things that kept Jacob busy.

He had started to bring him dinner to his room daily after he finished his own, still not sure when or if Jacob had time to eat otherwise.

"It's for Jacob," he said the first time he did so. The man handing out the food, just nodded not looking surprised at all.

The next time there were two trays handed to him and he just took them silently.

It gave him an excuse to finish his own food quicker. Eating had become almost another chore, one he did as quickly as possible and with as little energy as necessary. Some days the only thing motivating him to pick up the spoon was knowing how Jacob would react should Staci keel over in the middle of a report.

Knowing that he needed the energy to do a good enough job for Jacob also helped. Fear was a hell of a motivator, even in a place that already felt like hell, Staci thought, shoveling more food into his mouth.

"Good job," Jacob's praise echoed in his head and he gripped his spoon tighter at the faint memory of heat flushing through him. Fear, Staci thought resolutely, almost glaring at the mushy potatoes in front of him. Fear of Jacob and what he could do to him. Nothing else.

But as he stood up and grabbed Jacob's food, he couldn't help but feel like a loyal dog, bringing its master a gift.

He needed sleep, he thought as he walked towards Jacob's office. It didn't help that he had had problems falling asleep the last few days. As bone-deep as his exhaustion went, it was still overpowered by the endless train of thoughts running on repeat through his head the moment he closed his eyes.

Would the repairs work? Were they all dead? Was Jacob just waiting for him to mess up? Was it selfish for him to want them to have survived? What would they do if the repairs failed and they ran out of water? Was there even anything left outside worth surviving for? Or was it all...

He knocked loudly on Jacob's door, trying to disperse his thoughts. At least when he was working or training, there was no time for them.

"How are the repairs going?" Jacob asked once Staci was inside sitting on his bed and Staci was more grateful than he had ever been to be able to launch into a long report about logistics.

The meal plan Jacob had tasked him to prepare afterwards proved less distracting though. There was only so many ways you could try to not serve beans three times in a row. Jacob was sitting on his desk, writing something and Staci felt himself zooming out to the almost hypnotic sound of it scratching on the paper.

It wasn't silent in the dormitory, neither inside nor outside Staci's head. Snoring soldiers, at times a few suppressed or delicately ignored whimpers and the humming of the air system.

Jacob's office was noisy too. But it was noisy in a different way. With his back leaning against the cold walls of the bunker, Staci blinked, almost feeling comfortable for a brief moment.

The meal plan started swimming in front of his eyes and maybe Staci would just close them, not long, just for a few moments to rest them and...

He woke with a start. It took him a few disorientating moments to figure out where he was. Gray walls, the hum of a light pipe but not his bed in the dormitory.

When he looked up, Jacob was watching him from his desk and Staci froze.

Weak, his mind yelled at him. To fall asleep like that. And not just anywhere but on Jacob's bed.

Weak, he thought. Weak. Part of him felt like running. But where could he run.

Another part, and with slight horror he realized that it was actual bigger than the other, wanted to stay still and accept whatever punishment Jacob would dish out. To show that he could still be strong, that Jacob could still make him strong if he gave it more time.

Good, Jacob's voice whispered in his head, almost drowning out the repeating chorus of his own voice mumbling weak.

Straightening his shoulders Staci waited with bated breath for what Jacob would do to him.

"Finish that," Jacob only said, nodding at the meal plan in front of Staci.

Then he turned away from him, back to his own papers. Staci stared at him. Wondering what had just happened. Why nothing had happened.

Don’t question the wolf’s teeth if you managed to escape them, he thought. Too busy probably, to come up with a punishment.

"Yes Jacob," he said, picking up the paper again. Jacob said nothing, only kept writing.

The sound of the scratching pen filled the room again between their soft breathing and it was almost enough to distract Staci from his exhaustion.

Obviously he wasn't so stupid as to fall asleep on Jacob's bed again. He sat as straight as possible the next week, trying not to be lulled back into sleep again. It helped that they had finally finished cleaning out the rooms and got started on actually trying to dismantle the air system.

Staci had thought of a way to potentially get out the filter without them having to break open almost the entire wall.

"Not bad," Jacob said when he came to check on the status of the repairs in person. The heat inside Staci spread like wildfire. And he could hate himself, he should hate himself for it, but Jacob's praise was the only thing making the cold in his chest disappear, if even for just a moment.

"Keep going," Jacob said, looking straight at Staci.

"Yes, Jacob," Staci said, returning his gaze. As Jacob left, Staci wondered if dogs felt like this when praised by their owners for showing of a good trick.

He tried to distract himself from the thought by working even harder. There were still schematics to consider, manuals to read and re-read, blowtorches to be removed from all too willing hands. Staci made a mental note to ensure that Charlie would be put on a different shift after the man had almost burned parts of the filtration system.

He omitted that fact in his reports to Jacob though. There seemed to be enough other things on Jacob's plate.

It was hard for Staci's eyes to not stray to the radio, still under Jacob's desk. No dust had settled on it, implying Jacob was still using it regularly. Staci doubted he had gotten any answer and now, almost five months after the bombs, he doubted he ever would.

He wondered if the same questions that kept Staci from sleeping most nights were also haunting Jacob.

It didn't impact his work, he was still stern, unmovable and fully in control. It was only when the reality of their situation seemed to crash too hard with the one he was trying to build, when it  
seemed to fight him every step of the way, that Staci could see the tension underneath.

"Three crates," Jacob said slowly, eyes wandering from one soldiers to the next. They all looked like they'd rather be out there in the nuclear fallout right about now than being pierced by Jacob's gaze.

"Two filled with medical supplies, one with food" Jacob continued. Left underneath a dripping water pipe. Which you failed to notice. Until it was too late." Abruptly he turned towards one of the men behind him, who had watched the scene unfold.

"Isolation," he said. "For everybody responsible." Staci swallowed heavily. It was always dark in the bunker. It would be even darker in the cells.

Too dark. Not all of those Jacob sent in there had made it out with their minds still in one piece. Jacob had stopped doing it the first time they had opened the cell again and the man had tried to rip out the throat of the person opening it with his teeth.

What use was punishment that broke people in ways Jacob couldn't control, Staci thought. And now there were three of them, three people they needed to strengthen their already thinly-stretched shifts, to help with repairs or in the greenhouse where they so far had failed to grow any of their seeds.

Without thinking Staci stepped closer to Jacob.

"I need them for repairs," he said silently, making sure only Jacob could hear his words. "And they might not be of any use afterwards."

You know that, he wanted to add. You would have killed me long ago if you didn't value usefulness over one-time weakness.

"We need them," he said because they did. Jacob silently examined him. The same scrutinizing look as always.

But underneath the cool expression, he could almost feel Jacob considering his words and coming to a conclusion. Maybe Jacob was too tired to keep up his usual mask or maybe Staci had gotten better at reading him those last few months.  
  
Either way, Jacob raised his hand and the woman who had been in the process of leading the group away stopped.

"Weakness," Jacob said. "Must be fought. It must be found and then corrected. So that the herd may become strong." Once again he let his deep blue eyes wander over the group in front of him. Staci could see all of them subconsciously straightening their shoulders under the look. So did he and Jacob wasn't even looking at him.

"Half rations until the lost food has been replaced," he then said. There was an almost silent sigh of relief going through the group, tensed shoulders slumping down. It was still a harsh punishment but it was better than the darkness of the isolation cell. They knew that. All of them did.

"Back to work," Jacob then said, turning away from the group. "Pratt, with me," he added seemingly as an afterthought and Staci stumbled almost over his feet in his haste to follow him.

His stomach flipped nervously when Jacob made his way to his office, Staci following close behind. It wasn't time for his reports yet.

He closed the door and stood straight, hands clasped tightly behind his back as he waited for what was about to come.

Jacob seemed to ignore him as he went over to his desk, opening a drawer.

The cold seeped into Staci’s chest when Jacob pulled out a knife. Slowly Jacob ran his finger over its blade.

"You haven't shaved me in a while," he said. Staci nodded, mouth too dry to answer.

"And neither have you shaved yourself, have you?" Staci's hand shot up to his own face. Mirrors were a rarity in the bunker and even then, Staci usually avoided them. Unsure if he'd still recognize the person staring back. But his stubble had turned into something that felt closer to an actual beard over the months.

"I should return the favor," Jacob said, nodding towards his chair. The cold solidified inside Staci, legs feeling like stone as he slowly stepped towards it.

Run, whispered the parts of him that had survived both Jacob and the bombs. It's an order, answered the parts of him that had changed to survive both Jacob and the bombs.

He sank down on the chair and raised his head. Giving Jacob better access all while showing off his throat to him.

Jacob hummed almost inaudible and then the cold blade of the knife touched Staci.

It wandered down his cheek and Staci was almost irritated at the lack of initial pain. But all the knife, all that Jacob did, was to start shaving. Messily, slightly painful but still shaving.

Test, the part had compelled him to sit down in the chair mumbled. Or a wolf playing with its food before the kill.

"I wouldn't need the knife," Jacob said. Staci didn't move his head, acutely aware of how close the knife was to his artery.

"No," he answered quietly. "You wouldn't." He wouldn't.

"You stopped me." The knife got caught, almost slipped. Staci realized that he was holding his breath. "They deserved the punishment. And you stopped me. Why?"

At the question the knife was suddenly underneath his chin, forcing his head back until Staci was staring up at Jacob looming above him.

"Why?" Jacob repeated and one wrong movement and he'd cut Staci's throat.

"Because we cannot afford to lose people like that," Staci whispered. He was surprised how firm his voice sounded.

"We need them to survive," he added because they did. Not as many as were supposed to had made it to the bunker in time. They could ill-afford to thin out their ranks even more.

"Not a smart thing to say for your own survival, peaches," Jacob said.

"No," Staci agreed because it wasn't. The smart thing would have been to stay silent. To keep his head down, to survive and nothing else. But it had been the right thing, the sensible thing to ensure the continued strength of Jacob's herd and of Jacob.

There was surviving and there was Jacob. There were so many things and then there was Jacob.

Deep blue eyes watching him coolly and what else was there to say.

"Why?" Jacob asked again and Staci wanted to laugh. How could he explain it when all he knew was, that there was Jacob. And that so many things beside him had stopped mattering.

"Kill the weak," he whispered instead. Leant closer into the blade as he did, eyes not leaving Jacob's.

Kill the weak, he thought.

A sharp sting, something wet as the blade cut him open and there'd be blood on his throat, dark red but all he could see was the dark blue of Jacob's eyes.

Kill me if I'm weak. And then the knife was suddenly snatched away from his throat.

Jacob stepped away from the chair.

"You can leave," he said. Staci rose from the chair. His hands were shaking slightly as he silently made his way to the door.

There were drops of red dripping from the knife Jacob was still holding and Staci’s hand came up automatically, wiping away the blood from the small cut on his throat.

Jacob's eyes followed the movement and Staci wondered what he was thinking. What he was seeing when he looked at him. He reached for the door.

"See how much food was lost. And report it to me this evening," Jacob's voice stopped him.

He turned around.

"Yes, Jacob," he said and if Jacob had told him to come back, sit down again and show his neck to the blade, he'd have said the same. Something flashed in Jacob's eyes, dark and considering like always but there was something else underneath this time.

The heat in his stomach boiled at the look, greedily wishing for more of it.

A silent nod from Jacob then and as Staci left he felt for the first time like he had passed one of Jacob's tests.  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Things both changed and stayed the same the following weeks.

There were his duties, plans to write, reports to deliver to Jacob like before. Staci hand-picked a few men and women to help with the finer mechanics of the air filtration system after he had finally figured out a way to get it open safely. Beans were served in the cafeteria, somebody gave Charlie another blowtorch beside Staci's strict orders and somehow the bunker didn’t burn down.

But other things changed.

"I've been considering a few ways to limit ammo waste during training, Pratt."

Advice offered.

"Take care of that, Pratt, I don't care how as long as it gets done."

Problems solved.

"Pratt will oversee it."

Commands given.

He noticed. He couldn't not notice.

The soldiers also noticed, must have, but none ever reacted as if this was unusual.

"Should we tell, Jacob?" Staci one morning overheard two soldiers. He stopped. Things that Jacob needed to know nowadays where things he too needed to know.

"We'll tell, Pratt," one of the women said. "He'll know what to do."

It seemed to end their discussion and Staci realized that lately more and more things that would have been reported to Jacob in the past now got transferred to him. Either to make a decision or to take it up with Jacob if it was something bigger.

He didn't know how to feel about it.

"Good,” Jacob's voice echoed in his head, the heat inside of him seething and maybe he did know how he was feeling about it.

It was easier though not to think about it. To just do as much as possible for the bunker, for Jacob.

Six months after the bombs, it sometimes was hard to remember if it was day or night. He missed the sun, missed fresh air, missed eating anything that didn't come out of a can.

He missed feeling warm. And if doing what Jacob wanted, needed him to do, made him feel a brief flash of heat, who could blame him for it?

Who was left to blame him for it? About as many people as Jacob had left to turn to instead of him, Staci thought to himself. He had no doubt that the radio was still staying silent.

So why did it have to matter that he looked at Jacob sometimes out of the corner of his eyes, late at night or maybe already early morning, who could really tell in the endless twilights of the bunker, and wanted. Wanted to reach out for Jacob, for Jacob to tell him to get on his knees, open his mouth and be good, to let Staci show how good he could also be like this and-

He froze. The heat inside of him was still there but pooled deeper now, having moved from his chest to his lower stomach.

Well, he thought, slightly hysterical, that was new. Memories of a faint dream flooded his mind, vague visions of hands and touches and blue eyes and maybe it wasn't all that new.

Not that it matter, he thought to himself sternly, as he once more made his way to Jacob's room for his daily reports. Not that it had to matter.

It did matter. It felt like a damn had broken and now Staci couldn't help noticing. Jacob's hands wrapped around a gun during training, calmly aiming. How if asked, if ordered, Staci could fit right under his desk.

He shifted uncomfortably on Jacob's bed, tried to focus on nothing but the training schedules in front of him but ended up wondering if the knife was still there in Jacob's desk draw sharply er.

That night he dreamt about the knife and Jacob smiling sharply down at him and wasn't that just exactly the type of fucked-up mess Jacob had turned Staci into.

He almost was thankful for the distraction a few weeks later.

"It's the third one," Staci said, both him and Jacob staring at the broken water system.

Almost thankful.

There was a heavy silence as Jacob leant down, taking a closer look at the broken part.

"Same as the other two?" he asked. Staci nodded.

"Same parts, same place," he said.

Jacob hummed softly before slowly standing up and turning back towards Staci. They were alone in the room. After one of the soldiers had informed Staci about it, he had immediately gotten Jacob.

"Third one in how many weeks?"

"Two," Staci said and his discomfort grew as the thought started solidifying more and more inside his head. Judging by Jacob's eyes turning dark, he was thinking the same.

"I want a list of everyone who had access to the room," he said, voice clipped. "And we will set up 24 hour guards at the door."

"Yes, Jacob," Staci said. Jacob just nodded before turning back to the broken water tank.

Broken by somebody inside the bunker. One of their soldiers.

If they found them, Staci would stay silent no matter what punishment Jacob had in store for them.

They installed the guards, Staci gave Jacob the list of people who could access the room. It was too long, too many names to bother questioning them all. Jacob's expression grew grimmer and grimmer as he read through it.

The next week, Jacob seemed to be everywhere. He oversaw almost all repairs, no matter how small, demanded detailed lists not just from Staci but his other soldiers and once again Staci was left wondering when the hell Jacob was sleeping.

Judging by the dark shadows that had started appearing under his eyes, probably not at all.

Three weeks later, one of their air filtration systems broke. It could have been a simple normal short circuit, nothing out of the norm for a system designed to keep several thousand people alive. But Staci thought of the water system, one of which they were still trying to fix. And then of the three crates, a few months ago. How the water had leaked into them, unnoticed until it was too late, partly hidden behind a shelf.

Convenient, he thought. And then he went to find Jacob. He found him in his room angrily pacing up and down.

Guess somebody told him already, Staci thought. He should go. Leave Jacob to his anger, return once his temper had cooled down, not walk straight into the cave of an angry wolf.

He closed the door behind him and stepped closer.

"One of the air systems has-" he began.

"I am aware," Jacob interrupted him, voice almost a growl. He stopped pacing, stared at the floor in front of him. Slowly clenching and unclenching his hand over and over again.

But Staci had spent too much time watching to not notice the small tremors running through him.

To say that Jacob looked unwell would have been an understatement.

"You should rest," he said, surprising even himself with the words.

Jacob looked up from the floor at him and even with the dark shadows under his eyes, his look still cut.

"I need to find whoever is responsible for this," he growled.

"You can do that afterwards. When did you last sleep?" Staci said, trying to sound placating. "You won’t-"

Jacob's hands shot forward, wrapping themselves around Staci's throat.

"I will do whatever needs to be done to find this traitor among us," Jacob said and it would have been stupid for Staci to walk into the wolf’s cave and then complain about its teeth.

The hands around his throat pressed and the edges of his vision grayed out.

“You can’t do that if you’re falling apart,” Staci gasped out. “We need you to be strong.”  
  
I need you to be strong, he thought because Jacob might have made him strong but it was a strength that came from Jacob, was for Jacob.

You made me strong, he thought, but only for you. Only you.

Jacob still had his hands around his throat, staring at him and Staci wanted to laugh because Jacob had broken him and now he’d have to deal with it.

Then the hands disappeared and Staci slumped forward, taking a deep ragged breath. His knees were trembling but he still forced himself to stand straight. He looked at Jacob who was watching him with an unreadable expression.

“You should rest.” His voice was harsh and broken, his throat aching. There’d be bruises, he could tell.

“I can’t until I find the traitor,” Jacob answered and his voice sounded different now. More tired, as if he was finally admitting to the exhaustion he must have been feeling.

Staci looked at him and he wanted to do something. To help Jacob stay strong, help him rest and forget, even if it was just for a moment.

“Let me help.”

Weeks or maybe months of staring at Jacob’s hands, dreams of knives and the heat inside Staci boiled over as he sank to his knees in front of Jacob.

Jacob stared down at him, a brief flash of confusion turning into consideration and Staci waited. For Jacob to start laughing and tell him to get out. For him to tell Staci to unzip his pants and open his mouth.

Orders, either way. Like always. Staring at Jacob’s shoes, he waited.

A hand touching his head then, burrowing into his hair and roughly pulling it back until Staci winced in pain and looked up at Jacob.

Deep blue eyes watching him and he had not only gone willingly into the wolf’s cave, he had placed himself right in front of its mouth and teeth. And its eyes, Jacob’s eyes, glinting with hunger.

“Go on,” Jacob said, almost softly and Staci should have expected this. Couldn’t make it easy for him, not even now. With slightly shaking hands Staci reached out for Jacob’s pants, hoping he was doing the right thing.

Jacob let him, allowed him to slowly unzip his pants. He was half-hard when Staci pulled down his boxer shorts, a trail of red hair leading down to his cock and Staci looked at it, feeling slightly unsure on how to proceed. It had been a while. Even before the bunker, even before Jacob.

An impatient rough tug on his hair though, pulling him forward and he went willingly. This he could work with. He opened his mouth, taking Jacob’s cock inside.

The hand on his hair tightened, the only reaction Jacob gave and Staci took it as encouragement. Slowly he started moving, sucking Jacob’s cock deeper inside. The weight of it was heavy on his tongue, growing harder with each of Staci’s movements and Staci took more and more of it, as deep into his throat as he could.

He almost choked on it, instinctively tried to pull away but Jacob’s grip was like steel, holding him right there. There was a brief flash of panic as Staci tried to remember how to breathe.

“Keep going,” Jacob said above him and Staci felt his breath calming almost on its own at the order. He swallowed around Jacob’s cock and that finally provoked a stronger reaction than just a tug on his hair.

Jacob’s hips snapped forward, a groan coming from above that got caught off halfway through and then Jacob’s other hand came up, grabbing his chin and holding his head still as he started fucking into Staci’s mouth.

Staci tried to relax his throat as much as possible, welcoming every one of Jacob’s deep rough trusts. His own cock was painfully hard, aching for any kind of pressure but he didn’t dare to touch himself, not without Jacob allowing him to do so.

Above him Jacob kept fucking his face and the heat that had polled deep in Staci’s stomach started spreading through the rest of his body.

Good, Staci thought wildly as he took Jacob’s cock as deep as possible with every thrust. I’m being good like this, right? Tell me I’m being good for you.

Jacob’s movement started stuttering, growing less steady and Staci could tell he was close. The grip on his head loosened and when he looked up, Jacob was staring down at him.

Unspoken permission to move away, maybe. But Jacob was watching him, and everything was a test with Jacob, would always be, so Staci stayed right there.

Jacob buried himself deep into Staci’s throat when he came, and Staci took every drop of his come, swallowing it all down.

The room felt different when he finally moved away, letting Jacob’s spend cock slip out of his mouth. His own breath was coming harshly, ragged and almost too loud in the small space. Jacob meanwhile didn’t seem bothered at all, breathing calm and steady as always.

The only evidence of what Staci had done was his still unzipped pants and exposed cock, now soft. With shaking hands, Staci reached out, tugging Jacob back into his boxers and then zipping him up.

All put together like nothing had happened at all, Staci thought. If you ignored him still kneeling in front of Jacob and his own hard cock, it almost felt true.

He put his hands on his thighs afterwards, staring at the ground or rather Jacob’s shoes. Waiting again. He didn’t dare to look up, unsure of what he would see in Jacob’s eyes. Unsure of what he wanted to see.

The silence stretched on and maybe he should leave. His reports weren’t due yet, he still had work to oversee while Jacob had other stuff to do. Jacob probably had expected him to figure this out on his own yet and Staci made a move to stand up.

The hand that had been hanging loosely by Jacob’s side shot up and came back to grip his hair, forcing him back down.

“No,” Jacob growled above him. “Not till I say so.” The heat flushed through Staci and his mouth suddenly felt dry.

“Yes, Jacob,” he said and his cock pulsed hard. Jacob stepped closer to him, raising his feet until it was resting against his crotch.

“Come on then,” Jacob said and his voice felt like it alone could cut Staci to pieces. “Get yourself off.” The order was almost enough to make Staci come right there. He shuddered, swallowing heavily as he moved forward on his knees, pressing against the shoe.

He wasn’t strong enough to hold back his own moans, hoped Jacob would allow him this small weakness as he started rutting against Jacob’s shoe. The pressure felt like heaven, simultaneously too much and not enough and Staci kept moving against it, knowing very well he wouldn’t be able to hold out for long.

His orgasm still took him by surprise and Jacob’s hand in his hair tightened again, the pain a delicious contrast to the intensity of the heat completely overtaking him, spilling out of him at least.

Once again the room fell silent expect for Staci’s harsh gasps. He tried to calm his breath, managed after a few moments and then looked up at Jacob again.

Jacob was still watching him and Staci returned his gaze, feeling for the first time since they had come into the bunker a feeling of calmness wash over him. How fitting, he thought, that he would reach it like this, on his knees in front of Jacob

“The air system,” Jacob then said and Staci snapped to attention. “It needs to be repaired as soon as possible. The repairs on the water tanks are postponed. We will make teams of two, no soldier allowed to be on their own.”

There were still shadows under Jacob’s eyes and he still needed to sleep but the manic energy, the anger that had had him pacing his room like a caged wolf before Staci had come to him had disappeared, replaced by cool resolve.

“Make the lists,” Jacob said and then turned away to his desk. Staci waited, still on his knees, unsure once more if this was supposed to be a dismissal.

But then Jacob turned away from the desk and looked at him, still kneeling in the middle of Jacob’s room, for a long moment and the heat that had simmered down after Staci had come, flickered once more inside of him.

“Get up,” Jacob said and with shaking legs Staci followed the order. “I want the lists this evening,” Jacob said. “I’ll make an announcement then.”

Staci nodded, happy almost about the work. Distraction, and if he ever needed endless lists to not think too closely about something, now was the perfect time for it.

He still snuck one last quick glance at Jacob as he left his room and the heat mixed with pride when he noticed that his hands had stopped shaking.

He had the lists ready on time, stood silently behind Jacob as he talked to the soldiers.

Slowly letting his eyes wander over each of them, wondering which one of them was the traitor. 

"We will march together to the Garden," Jacob's voice cut through the tense silence. There had been some mumbling when Jacob had started talking but his words had soon let every whisper die. "And all of those who dare oppose us will be culled. For the Project. For the Father."

If he was even still alive, Staci thought. Not that he needed Joseph or the Project. Jacob alone was quite enough.

"Pratt will update you on the new security measures that will be taken. Any disobedience will be punished. Cull the weak."

Staci stepped forward taking out his list. The rest of the evening was spend dividing people into different groups and trying to ignore the way the soldiers were seizing each other up.

Distrustful. That night, the dormitory seemed even more lonely than it normally did. Sleep didn't come that night and neither did it the next few days. 

They managed to repair the air system at least, though its efficiency had been greatly diminished. Staci let his fingers wander slowly over the holes that had been burnt into it, small but precise, perfectly targeting the vital parts of the system.

Very precise. A thought began worming its way into Staci's head and that night as he sat on Jacob's bed once more, he mentally went over the list of soldiers that had worked with him on the first air filtration system. 

It wasn't a big group. There was a learning curve involved that made it more effective to let small missteps slide instead of wasting a few days trying to get somebody acquainted with the difficult technology. There was a reason Staci had decide to let Charlie stay, even after the blowtorch accident.

But that learning curve also made it more likely for one of them to have done it. Unless whoever had done it had somehow gotten access to a manual or had knowledge about the system before the bombs.

Staci frowned, felling the exhaustion-induced headache that had been bothering him for days return.

There were other things to do still and he put away the thoughts for the time being.

He hesitated when he was done for day, hovering around at the door. Mostly there was nothing afterwards, Jacob dismissing him for the day with barely a nod.

Sometimes though Jacob now told him to stay. To get on his knees and he went willingly, dropped down on the floor in an instant. Jacob's hands, Staci’s mouth and then oblivion, if only for a few precious moments.

A growled _good_ one time, he had replayed over and over in his head when he had jerked off afterwards.

The heat curled inside of him those nights, tight and greedy, and if this was all he could get in the bunker, all the warmth that was left for him in this world, he'd take it.

There were no sights of Jacob wanting him or his mouth like this tonight though and Staci saw himself out.

His could feel the exhaustion of the day, or rather last few weeks, settle in as he made his way towards the dormitory. Even though so far the new system seemed to work, with nothing else breaking down, time not spend with his normal duties was spent pondering who the traitor was.

Seems like you could take him out of the police but couldn't take the police out of him, Staci thought almost letting out a bitter laugh at the thought.

God, he needed to sleep. Desperately. But as he had reached the dormitory, his bed so close, hard and cold yet unbelievingly inviting, something inside of him kept going.

The burn holes. Staci stopped, frowning deeply. Something about the burn holes.

He hadn't been the best Deputy before the bombs. But he had intuition, enough to help him out in a few cases. An eye for the details, Whitehorse had said and he flinched because he wasn't thinking of him, of either of them.

But something was bugging him about the holes. Staci let out a silent sigh, aware of the more or less peacefully sleeping men and women around him.

It would bug him, he knew that. So instead of laying down and trying to get at least a few hours of sleep, he turned around and left the dormitory again.

The lights in the bunker were the same, day and night. It technically allowed for two fully-staffed shifts, all hours of the day. But not all of those who had helped prepare the bunker had actually made it into it, so Staci passed the hallways towards the isolated rooms without meeting anybody.

He kneeled in front of the small pile of broken parts they had discarded for later use.

Unsure what exactly he was looking for he went through it. Almost all the way to the bottom was one piece of charred metal. With a frown he picked it up.

An accident, he thought. Bit too eager with that blowtorch. The burn holes were quite precise for somebody whose hands had slipped.

There was a pattern there almost, like somebody had been trying to figure out just how to...

Abruptly he stood up. Holes, he thought, fucking burn holes. That's how he had gotten the air system open. And Staci had been the one to show him how to do it in the first place.

He needed to tell Jacob. But when he turned around there was a gun.

It hit him hard and heavy against his head and he stumbled backwards, falling over the pile of trash.

Above him Charlie smirked down at him.

"Wh-" Staci began but Charlie brought down the gun again and he crumbled on the floor. His head was pounding heavily and he felt something wet slowly dripping over his forehead.

"Found the traitor," Charlie said above him. His voice was calm and monotone, sounding as if it was coming from a far away distance. "Jacob will be so grateful. I stopped him right as he was trying to destroy the evidence of what he had done."

Staci tried to raise his head but the pain was too intense, too overwhelming.

Hands reached for him, pulling him up, pushing him forward and he almost feel back down again as the world around him spun nauseatingly. Weakly he tried to shrug the hands of, only to be meet with another hit of the gun against his head.

Weak, the voice inside of him or Charlie or maybe even Jacob whispered. Weak.

There was the sound of metal moving and it took his dizzy mind a long pain filled moment to realize it was the sound of a door being opened.

And then he was pushed forward and with another painful impact he landed heavily on the floor. He had to keep from getting sick, nausea mixing with the pain. With an effort he managed to roll on his back, trying to blink through the darkness flickering through his vision.

Outside of the room Charlie was smiling down at him. It wasn't a benign smile. But what was worse was the madness glistering in his eyes.

"You are weak,” Charlie said. "You do not deserve to survive, to serve under Jacob's command, to help the Project. You know this, I know it, Jacob will too."

Staci had seen many types of madness since he had come to Hope County. And he found all of them in Charlie. The zealously, the willingness to both kill and die for the cult.

"I hope Jacob will allow me to kill you myself if you are still alive after I get him," Charlie said and then he closed the door.

For a moment Staci felt almost relieved. He'd get Jacob and Jacob would know Charlie was lying.

Wouldn’t he? A thought formed in Staci's head. Him going to the isolated room instead of his bed. How he was one of the few people still allowed to roam the bunker on his own. The one who had come up with a way to open the air filtration system in the first place. How he never told Jacob about Charlie’s little “accident” with the blowtorch.

Easy to point fingers. Make accusations. Kill the weak, his own words echoed back to him. And maybe Jacob would look at him and see him trying to hide his weakness.

Panic flooded through him and he tried to stand up again. He gasped in pain, his body protesting even this amount of movement.

He tried to take a deep breath but it felt shallow. Another one and another and with each one it felt like he was getting less air than before.

Then he noticed the silence. No constant buzzing of neon lights, understandable in only the emergency lighting of the room.

But also no humming of the air filtration system. Coldness grabbed him when he realized that Charlie had pushed him into the room they had isolated.

The leftovers of its air system on the other side of the door.

Fuck, he thought. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His breath kept coming faster, pure fear mixing in with the pain, almost overpowering it.

He was running out of air, would run out even quicker like this. Would suffocate and to have come so far and die like this. He had survived Hope County, he had survived the bombs but he now he'd die, desperately gasping for air that wasn't there. He was almost hyperventilating at this point.

Weak, Jacob whispered in his head. And I thought I made you strong.

He forced his breathing to calm down. Focused on Jacob's voice, imagined it calmly telling him to breathe normally, could feel his body conditioned to do what Jacob wanted it to do, slowly fall in line.

Good, Jacob mumbled inside his mind as he finally calmed down enough.

Out, he then thought. He needed to get out. It cost him every reservoir of strength he had to crawl forwards towards the door, his body fighting him every inch of the way. He had to stop briefly after he had finally reached it. 

The air around him felt even thinner, tasted stale and used. He had spent too many hours over the manuals of the air filtration system to not know what happened once it wasn't working anymore.

Forcing himself to stand up, felt like the hardest thing he had ever done. His knees buckled the first time, he crashed face-first into the floor and just laid there dazed.

Darkness creeping into his vision and maybe he should just stay down here. Maybe this was how he had always been meant to die.

But then he had come so far. Further than he had always thought, further than Jacob had thought.

Slowly and painstakingly he forced himself to try again. Inch by inch, he managed to stand up, to stop his knees from giving in again. He was leaning heavily against the door, feeling around its edges.

There was too much pain to feel more than a faint wave of triumph when he found the control panel of the door. He clawed at it, fingers too numb to try for anything resembling finesse.

They had opened it back then, he thought almost feverishly. They had opened it and he could open it again and rearrange the cables to open the door.

Unless Charlie had smashed the control panel on the other side.

His fingernails caught in something and the lid of the control panel slipped aside. There was sweat on his forehead though and Staci's vision was blurry, too blurry to make out any details of the wires in the dim lighting of the room.

There was no God Staci wanted to believe in who would allow Joseph to have been right. So without one last final prayer he reached out and ripped out as many wires as he could.

Nothing happened. And maybe Staci thought, too weak to even feel disappointed or scared, it would be more merciful to die like this and not have Jacob kill him.

Then a sudden noise, metal moving against metal, and Staci more felt than saw the door open.

He fell forward as it did so, still slumped against it without enough strength left to stand on his own.

The impact knocked the last remains of air out of his lungs. He gasped but it wasn't enough, too close to the room still, not enough, not enough, he was going to...

"Pratt. Pratt, breathe!" Hands on his shoulders pushing, pulling and he couldn't see who was touching him.

"Breathe Staci!" And then he recognized the voice and he took a deep breath at Jacob's order.

A few more deep breaths and the air was better now. He felt his racing heartbeat calm down and his vision slowly clearing up.

When he looked up, Jacob was staring down at him.

Staci opened his mouth, to explain, to thank Jacob, to beg him to not believe Charlie maybe but all that he managed was a weak gasp.

"Just keep breathing, peaches," Jacob said above him. He turned away from him for a moment, the sound of metal signaling he was closing the door. "How bad is your head?" he then asked, leaning down to stare closer at what Staci assumed was a still bleeding head wound.

"H-he's lying," it broke out of Staci. It was a painful and breathless thing, his lung protesting at this strenuous use.

"Is he now?" Jacob said, voice calm. Staci blinked up at him, mind still swimming. "Because I do think what he said does make sense. An outsider like you. Weak and unsupervised."

Staci opened his mouth wanting to protest but Jacob kept talking.

"A snake in the Garden. Good thing Charlie was there to stop you. Right, Charlie?"

From behind the corner, Charlie suddenly appeared. Staci froze when saw the gun still in his hand.

"Right, Jacob. I stopped him. For the Project. For the Father."

Jacob nodded gravely and all Staci could do was stare, feeling the cold spread through his insides once more.

"A snake in the Garden," Jacob repeated. He let his eyes wander from Charlie down to Staci. "One who lied and tried to kill us all. And then came running to blame the righteous for what he had done."

Confusion mixed with the cold.

"Pratt said you are lying Charlie," Jacob said, cold blue eyes turning back to look at Charlie. "And I think he is right. Because Pratt is strong. I made him strong. He knows weakness when he sees it. And so do I."

Charlie stared at Jacob, mouth slightly open. If there wasn't the gun in his hand and the fever in his eyes, it would have almost looked ridiculous.

"I'm not weak," he then said. His voice was shaking slightly. "I'm not weak! I'm strong! For the Project! For the Father!" His voice grew louder and louder with every word.

"Weak," Jacob just said dismissively. "There is no place in Joseph’s Garden for the weak."

Staci almost noticed it too late, focused on Charlie's eyes and not his hands with the gun. But still he noticed and Jacob's training kicked in instantly.

Charlie let out a surprised yelp when Staci jumped towards him and collided with him. The shot he had been about to shoot rang out, missing Jacob by mere inches.

"I will live in the Garden!" Charlie yelled as Staci tried to wrestle the gun away from him. "I will kill you both and I will live in the Garden and you will-."

Staci managed to rip the gun out of his hands and there was no hesitation as he took aim and shoot.

Charlie's voice broke off mid-sentence and he dropped to the ground. Staci stared at the body in front of him and felt nothing but grim satisfaction.

Weak, he thought. You are weak. Then the rush of adrenaline that had flooded his system wasn’t enough anymore to drown out the pain and his knees buckled.

Hands on his shoulders, stopping him from falling to the ground and when he turned around there was Jacob.

Slowly Jacob reached out, wiping something away from Staci's cheek and his hand came away red.

"Good," Jacob said and his voice was soft, so soft but still seemed to echo in the room. "Good, Staci."

Before the bombs, he had killed because of Jacob. But now he had killed for Jacob.

And all Staci could think was that he'd do it again if it meant Jacob would say his name once more.

"Come on," Jacob then said, abruptly letting go of him. "There is work to do."

Staci's knees buckled twice on the way to the mess hall and he had to lean against the wall, closing his eyes as he tried to breathe through the pain.

Jacob made no move to help him but at least he waited until Staci was able to walk again.

They made it somehow and Jacob started barking orders at some startled soldiers. Staci just sank down at one of the tables, stared at its dark gray plastic and thought of nothing for a bit.

"Up, Pratt" Jacob then said behind him and Staci snapped to attention. The room had started filling with soldiers and standing behind Jacob, Staci waited with him for the rest of them to gather.

Jacob started talking then but Staci's head hurt and his lungs burnt and he just wanted to lie down, just for a bit. Wash off the blood maybe, his own and the one he had spilled for Jacob.

"Pratt found the traitor," Jacob then said and this was enough to actually get Staci to pay attention. The room was silent and suddenly it seemed like all of the soldiers' eyes had turned towards him.

"He eliminated him," Jacob continued. "A soldier, worthy to protect the Garden once we leave the bunker."

And Staci wondered what he looked like. Face pale, body shaking heavily from exhaustion. Blood on his face though, on his hands and standing next to Jacob. A victorious fighter, a good soldier.

"I expect you all to be like him."

Jacob turned towards him and his eyes were dark, so dark as he looked at Staci. Staci stared at him and for a moment there was nobody else but them. 

Then Jacob turned away and the spell was broken. Staci felt his shoulders slump down and he didn't hear much else Jacob said after that. Orders probably, he thought. Two soldiers then walking over to him, pulling him away and at last towards the medical bay.

He fell asleep or lost consciousness the moment his head touched the pillow of the hospital bed.

It took him two days until he was able to leave. He probably should have stayed longer but he had become restless, itching to catch up on work again. To see Jacob again.

He thought Jacob might have come to see him once during his stay, staring down at him as Staci slipped in and out of sleep. Maybe that or maybe it had just been a dream.

It didn't quite matter. Staci stood in front of Jacob's door as usual that day and when he entered, Jacob stood up.

Slowly he let his eyes roam down Staci's body and Staci stood still. Wondering if Jacob was looking for the blood on Staci. If he could still see it, no matter how often he had washed his hands and face.

Hoping Jacob could.

Jacob nodded and handed Staci a pile of papers.

"Training plans," he said and both of them went right back to work.

He was on lighter duties the following week. Jacob didn't outright mention it but Staci didn't fail to notice how there were always more piles of papers to appear that would keep him desk-bound instead of wandering the bunker for various other tasks.

Compared to the gloomy feeling of mistrust and suspicion of the last weeks, it almost felt like rest. The soldiers had started looking differently at him during meals too and it took Staci a few days to realize they looked at him like they looked at Jacob. Not completely, not with the same blind loyalty. But there was respect in their eyes and they fell silent whenever Staci said something.

He didn't know how to feel about this, so he just didn't think about it. Took the reduced work schedule instead and tried to heal as quickly as possible.

A week after he had killed Charlie, he was sitting on Jacob's bed again, working through another list of repair schedules. Jacob had returned it twice to him already, pointing out he needed to include his new rule of having at least two people manning them.

To avoid another situation like Charlie, he hadn't said but Staci still had heard it. He understood it too but the day had been longer than those before, had actually included some walking to check on a few repairs in-person and he was feeling more exhausted than usual.

The names and dates in front of Staci's eyes started swimming. Jacob's was a silent solid presence in the room and it was weird how he had become a source of consistency instead of just fear. Not comfort, not now even, but as close as Staci would get.

He fell asleep, thinking vaguely that he'd take what he could get.

Hours or maybe mere minutes later he awoke. It took him less time to realize where he was this time, having become more than a bit familiar with Jacob's bed over the last months.

Still he opened his eyes slowly, trying to gauge Jacob's reaction. Just because sometimes Jacob told him to kneel, just because Staci had killed for him and knew he'd do so again if needed didn't make this okay.

Even if a few days ago Jacob had roughly pulled him to his feet afterwards and had kissed him, brutal and hard, turning it into a bite halfway through. Staci's lip had bled slightly and for the next few days, all he could think of when he had seen Jacob was the taste of blood.

He had returned the kiss without hesitation.

But still, at the least he expected Jacob to tell him to leave and a few more tasks in the next few days for sleeping on the job.

Turning towards Jacob's desk, he wasn't being watched though like had expected.

Jacob's head was resting on his arms, body slumped over the table. It took Staci a moment to realize that he had fallen asleep. It looked uncomfortable and without thinking Staci reached out for him.

Jacob woke immediately when he touched him and Staci should have accepted this, waking a sleeping wolf. He jumped up from the desk and forward towards Staci. They hit the bed, Jacob's body a heavy presence on top of him as he was pinned down and if Jacob had had his knife, this could have ended badly.

Instead Staci kept still though, forcing his body to not struggle against Jacob's tight grasp around his wrists, no matter how badly his instincts were screaming at him.

Above him Jacob's eyes cleared up as he stared down at him, recognition sinking in.

"Pratt," he said, letting go of Staci's wrists. Not making any move to pull away from Staci though, he noticed.

"You should rest," Staci said softly. A grin on Jacob's face, sharp amusement. He leant down, burrowed his face in Staci's neck.

"Offering to help out again?" he whispered. His breath was hot against Staci's skin and there was the hint of Jacob's teeth.

Staci tasted blood again.

But above him Jacob then moved away, rearranging himself in a way that ensured he wasn't crushing Staci anymore but was still very much laying on top of him.

He was warm, his body a solid presence blanketing Staci and for a moment Staci allowed himself to close his eyes.

"How did you know?" It felt easier to ask like this. Jacob close and Staci's eyes closed.

"That Charlie had been lying." Because he had been wondering. Thinking sometimes how lucky he had been. Because Charlie had been right. It would have made sense for it to have been Staci.

Maybe it should have been him, but the thought disappeared in an instant when he felt Jacob softly exhale on top of him.

He waited for the answer. Because somehow Jacob had known. Because it had been reason and arguments and logic on Charlie's side. And a stuttered desperate plea on Staci's.

"Go to sleep, Staci," Jacob whispered. Surprised Staci opened his eyes only to see that Jacob had closed his.

He could feel Jacob's breathing growing quieter and more even and he realized that Jacob had fallen asleep on top of him.

And Staci suddenly thought of the way Jacob had looked at him as he had stood there, covered in blood.

The heat inside of him roared and maybe between all of Charlie's arguments and logic, Staci wouldn't even had needed to beg for Jacob to believe him.

He closed his eyes instead of keeping thinking about it. There was work to do tomorrow.

And on top of him was Jacob and for once during his time in the bunker Staci felt warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is as much of a happy ending as I think those two can manage.


End file.
